Kulloda almost laughs again when he hears Gash's voice in his head. Water wizard and magic whisper wizard. Instead he just clears his throat with a low growl.
"If all want to sit keep talking," Kulloda begins. "Then talk, but Kulloda find very boring. Need to move and do. Why not talk while smack around elves and take fire? Or good fight with dwarves and take hammer?"
Kulloda looks around for any sign of the food tables reappearing.
"Maybe now go get drink, Gash," Kulloda says. "At least get drunk while endless talking happen."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Tristan arches his eyebrow at the half-orc’s suggestion to kill the gnome. “Now that is ambition. A bit unorthodox, but a solution nonetheless.” He looks around at the gathered angels and devils “However, Gash is correct. That is not a solution to be thrown about in such company, even he has his supporters and I fear rash words or actions could lead us down a path we dare not go. At least not yet.”
He looks back at the group “No, the question is how we build our influence without tipping our hand on who we are backing too soon. I am with our half-orc friend, let’s start collecting these divine relics.”
Tristan thinks back to the legends, stories, tales, and ballads he learned at the side of those who trained him to remember any relevant information on the Djinn, the magical flame, or the hammer of Jasperdown. History: 18.
He also pauses to consider if any of his network is located where they can provide assistance near Portia, Jasperdown, or the Eastern Tribes.
The dragon-as-a-lady nods, looking to the angels and a devil standing around her. "If you have sway," Xa'lawea says, "Then I would surely reward it. All I have to offer is material wealth, of which I can only name my heirs were I to ascend."
She glances again to the angels at her side. "The gods who support my nomination might have more to offer."
Kystra, angel of Tymora, the goddess of good fortune, nods. "Tymora will surely support any who can help others to support Xa'lawea. The boon of a god is no small thing."
Condolus, breaking from his discussion with Bailyx, shakes a finger towards Llyr. "Ilmater offers the same, elf. The dragon is his favored selection for the hells, if you can help sway the others."
“Interesting.” — the Eladrin spoke with a light hmm. The information he’d received had offered some perspective regarding the conversations he’d seen, but not heard unfold between the Divine Ambassadors, and the clueless crownmembers.
”I must admit, it has been a dream of mine to lay claim to a Dragon’s hoard.” — Llyr spoke with a light chuckle. This particular dream of his had first taken root all the way back when, 3 seconds ago, the opportunity had been presented to him. Though it remained a dream all the same.
The Bladesinger’s eyes flashed with the glint of intelligence, as they met the people that had spoken, one at a time. The Fey Courts’ Envoy was weighing his options, and felt no need to hide it. “Well, then. It’d only be fair if I offered something up, myself.” — the Elf’s chin turned ever so faintly, towards the other remaining mortals — “If they come, and they might, I would suggest you try to include this little Kingdom’s well being into whatever it is you offer them.” The Eladrin shrugged. “I’d wager a pretty coin that they’re the type to look for it. And if campaigning is what you’re after, then it shouldn’t hurt to know your audience, mm?”
“I, on the other hand, am what you might call… more of a free agent.” — he spoke, making it clear whatever boons he’d be offered had to be his. Whatever deals the lot made with the others was their business.
Llyr’s hands clasped together in front of his chest. "So tell me, then. Whose minds do you suspect can be changed? Where do we start?” — the ‘we’ wavered between the royal kind, as befitting a being thoroughly in love with himself, and a not-so-subtle reminder (aimed at the Dragon, especially) that they would be finding themselves, proverbially, in bed with an Ambassador to the Fey… and all that that entailed.
A couple of the devils appear to be snickering as Kulloda loudly philosophizes about how careless gods are about losing something over a lifespan he can scarcely imagine. One of them whispers, "...cute..."as Kulloda and the others begin to congregate together.
Typhorus responds to Gash's question with a half shrug. "Items of power, a blessing of strength or wit or agility, information about lost relics, secrets. Talos has many things he can bestow."
Meanwhile, Tristan considers his contacts. The crown has nobody in the north of Poria or the lands of the Eastern tribes. There is a part-time contact that travels through Jasperdown periodically, however.
Llyr:
"I am here as a mere show pony," Xa'lawea says. "I am also told that campaigning for godhood would be...crass. It is for the best. Politics is not truly my forte."
"Talk to Centulia and the devils of the elemental planes. They have a vested interest in a rapid resolution," Kystra says, pointing them out where they stand quite close to the emissaries of the crown.
Martin:
Viviora wanders temple row and then temple square with Martin asking the acolytes and clerics what they know about the Traveler or divine artifacts.
"You know more than they do, it seems," Viviora says, having discussed a little of Martin's adventures with him.
At the temple of Oghma, they stop for a long enough time that, once Martin is finished with his questions, Viviora is still praying. Eventually she finishes and approaches the acolyte, whispering into his ear. He nods and beckons her to follow him.
"I will be back in 20 minutes or so," she says. "Go talk to the clerics at the next temple and I will meet you at the temple of Tyr."
When they do meet at the temple of Tyr, Viviora looks radically different. She is dressed in chain mail adorned with the symbol of Oghma. A bow and a quarterstaff are strapped to her back and a fine looking rapier hangs in a sheath on her hip. She looks somewhat embarrassed to be in the new getup.
"I figured it was time to be serious about this paladin of Oghma thing if we are beginning a quest to find the Traveler," she says.
It turns out she was tapped as a paladin a month or so ago and has been in training at the temple ever since. This is why her time as a librarian student may be soon coming to an end. She has found a higher calling.
"So," she says, trying to change the subject. "You want to speak to the Regent tomorrow or should we follow one of your leads?"
"A drink would be welcome. And as for arenas, I haven't spent much time in them, but before I got pushed into this life, I was the strongman and bouncer in a traveling circus. Gash was there too. And Tock, our other friend..."Dog stops talking as Tristan arrives and updates them.
"It's a good question. I know Finnegan more than I know the dragon. Perhaps we find out what the dragon and the gnome wizard would offer should they ascend thanks to mortal help with changing votes. That's a pretty straightforward question. That might help the decision of which quests to undertake."
Dog returns to Finnegan and asks, now that the life debt question is out of the way, what his final offer would be for their help to sway votes in his favor.
Kulloda claps his hands together at Tristan's agreement that they should head off to collect the relics and free the djinn. But his smile changes and Kulloda frowns and runs his tongue over his tusks when he hears the 'cute' comment from the devils. He then looks down at Gash.
"Beginning to think about what want for future now," he says, bringing up a question Gash had asked earlier. "Own kingdom, army and then go smack down some devils."
He watches Dog go off to talk to Finnegan and Xa'lawea.
"Not trust what either say," Kulloda says. "Make promise when mortal but once become god they not keep. Twist words with more talk. At least know what dragons are."
"So," she says, trying to change the subject. "You want to speak to the Regent tomorrow or should we follow one of your leads?"
“I… got nothin’. I think the regent is the next step, unless you have a better idea… some sort of divine inspiration, perhaps. A Paladin? I guess Oghma is looking to get more involved? Or is it just you?”
A couple of the devils appear to be snickering as Kulloda loudly philosophizes about how careless gods are about losing something over a lifespan he can scarcely imagine. One of them whispers, "...cute..."as Kulloda and the others begin to congregate together.
Typhorus responds to Gash's question with a half shrug. "Items of power, a blessing of strength or wit or agility, information about lost relics, secrets. Talos has many things he can bestow.
Gash smiles. “Then let Talos bestow them. I am done taking the word on good faith. We should be given our boons, and such in advance. If the job is unsatisfactory, they can be taken from us. After all we arejust mortals”
Gash wipes the smile from his face, “we have more than proven outselves to get a job done.”
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Gash- Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Dog:
Finnegan startles a bit when Dog approaches but composes himself quickly. Upon hearing his question, he scoffs. "I don't need a team of mercenaries to defend my dig sites any more, my dear boy," he says. "We are well beyond that. The gods themselves are in negotiations here."
He lets that hang in the open for a moment as he ponders, then says, "I suppose if you can affect the outcome, though...somehow...I would happily reward you with my mage tower and all it contains. Hundreds of years of arcane research, magical items, spells, historical artifacts, and more. I would have no need of it. So by all means, boy, if you have the ear of the gods themselves, you can have it all if you help out papa Finnegan."
The dragon has a similar answer, although delivered in a much less condescending way. "I have accumulated wealth over hundreds of years," she says, her voice purring. "But no heirs to speak of. It is an earthly boon, to be certain, but it is one I can guarantee."
Gash:
Typhorus scoffs. "So has the wizard and the dragon. Should Talos just grant boons to whomever seems able enough? I doubt you can even recite the Prayer of Shelter at Sea."
DM shield:
Religion (24): 24
Indeed, Gash has no notion of the prayer named. "No?" Typhorus says. "What loyalty have you shown to Talos, then, that he would trust your intentions."
"It was Oghma who approached me," Viviora says, bashful. "I could not say no. I have worshipped Oghma all my life. To be called upon as a paladin of his in such a time as this is a huge honor. It...is not the way I saw my life going. Axonia assured me that I was the only choice, though. And I trust her with my life."
The pair are walking across Temple Square again, having visited every temple and sought advice on the pilgrims of the Traveler from every cleric to no avail. Martin is heading home at this late hour now, intent on visiting with the Regent in the morning.
"I am here as a mere show pony," Xa'lawea says. "I am also told that campaigning for godhood would be...crass. It is for the best. Politics is not truly my forte."
"Talk to Centulia and the devils of the elemental planes. They have a vested interest in a rapid resolution," Kystra says, pointing them out where they stand quite close to the emissaries of the crown.
“What’s wrong with being a little crass, every once in a while, mm?” — the Eladrin replied, his smile intensifying — “And show ponying seems a fair bit of what Godhood is, if I’m honest.” Llyr gazed at the procession one last time, hoping to show the Dragon what he saw: that the Angels and Devils present had done nothing but posturing, themselves.
The Envoy’s hands then immediately shut up in feigned surrender, before an Angel had the chance to rebuke him — glancing at Kystra in particular with a stare that seemed to imply something along the lines of ‘Alright, alright, I’ll be on my way’ — “You’ll develop a taste for it, soon enough, I’m told. And have eternity to polish your skills.” He told the dragon just before he went.
Unable to help himself, the Bladesinger then remarked one last time, through the Message cantrip to the surprisingly well behaved giant lizard, with a conspiratorial wink to boot — “Or find some lovely critters to do it for you.”— he transmitted, referring to the Angels, the Fiends, and even himself.
Tracing Kystra’s motions, Llyr quickly found Centulia, and moved over, but not directly to them — not just yet. Instead, he moved to join the only other mortal beings gathered here aside from him.
“Hello again.” — the Eladrin remarked to Tristan (the only one he’d interacted with so far), nodding at the rest as he approached them, his tone friendly, despite offering a frustratingly graceful mock of a bow — “How've you been finding the party?”
Llyr’s typically languid eyes shot open at the Half Orc’s words. The Eladrin’s hair and skin flared up, and he radiated light — and heat — as magic power filled the atmosphere around him. “Ooooh. I like you.”— he remarked, his deep voice thrumming in a mixture of magic, aggression and delight, before, just as suddenly as everything had emerged, it vanished, as though it had never been there — “Wait, what?” — the Bladesinger’s head tilted to the right as his face took on a perplexed expression, all of the build up from before now nowhere in sight.
“Of course that’s what I think.“ — the Eladrin’s arms, bent at the elbow, spread open, palms up in a what do you mean kind of stance — “I have no wife and no children. As far as I’m concerned, I’m the most important person in the world. Obviously. Isn’t that the way it normally is?” — he glanced around, at Devils, Angels, Humans, Goblins, Half-Orcs and Goliaths, to find no real answer in any of their faces, and quirking a brow in further puzzlement as a result — “No? … Wow, you god-people are weird.”
With a shrug, the Envoy turned to look the Half-Orc in the eyes once again, not backing down, but nowhere near as confrontational. “And finally, my tusked friend. If I wanted to insult you, I promise you. You’d know. I’ve no need for half measures when I can just as easily shit on your rug.”
“Now. If you’re done judging me for my manners, I’d very much like to know what these winged folk want me to do. Because, if it’s all the same to you, I’d really like to wrap this up so I can get back to my drinking, like a normal Elf.” — in the face of the soon-to-be Ambassadors of Limbo, and not too far off from those of the Heavens, and those of the Hells, Llyr shamelessly reached into his Bag of Holding and pulled an almost empty bottle of wine, half-way out, before placing it back in.“What do you say?”
"Okay think you best," Kulloda says, "just know, no one cares. Kulloda has many scars to prove that."
He then looks at the collection of angels and devils and waves a dismissive hand at them.
"They just all talk and talk. No wonder nothing happen," he says with a curled lip. "We go find lost relics and other trinkets and gods get happy and do what we say. Decide along the way if support dragon or gnome."
Then he frowns again.
"Now real insult," he says seeing the bottle of wine. "Show you have wine but not share."
Feeling a migraine rising and preparing to do something about it, Llyr found himself stopping before he’d ever even done anything when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the lineup of massive Angelic and Fiendish forms silently staring at them — a stark reminder of the circumstances he was in. Sighing to quell the vein beginning to bulge in his neck, the Eladrin reached into his bag, plucked the bottle of wine once again, and chucked it through the air, deftly aimed at the Half-Orc.
When the wine-filled vessel reached about 3 or so feet from its target, the Bladesinger’s index built up pressure against his thumb and then flicked outwards, and the bottle froze in place, mid-arc. “If I give you this.”— Llyr spoke, finger still loosely pointing at the suspended glassware feet away, his tone showing he was fully prepared to take it back, depending on the answer — “Will you let us talkers do our talking?”
Finnegan startles a bit when Dog approaches but composes himself quickly. Upon hearing his question, he scoffs. "I don't need a team of mercenaries to defend my dig sites any more, my dear boy," he says. "We are well beyond that. The gods themselves are in negotiations here."
He lets that hang in the open for a moment as he ponders, then says, "I suppose if you can affect the outcome, though...somehow...I would happily reward you with my mage tower and all it contains. Hundreds of years of arcane research, magical items, spells, historical artifacts, and more. I would have no need of it. So by all means, boy, if you have the ear of the gods themselves, you can have it all if you help out papa Finnegan."
The dragon has a similar answer, although delivered in a much less condescending way. "I have accumulated wealth over hundreds of years," she says, her voice purring. "But no heirs to speak of. It is an earthly boon, to be certain, but it is one I can guarantee."
Gash:
Typhorus scoffs. "So has the wizard and the dragon. Should Talos just grant boons to whomever seems able enough? I doubt you can even recite the Prayer of Shelter at Sea."
DM shield:
Religion (24): 10
Indeed, Gash has no notion of the prayer named. "No?" Typhorus says. "What loyalty have you shown to Talos, then, that he would trust your intentions."
“you’re right. I don’t know this prayer. And you’re right about something else. I have no loyalty to Talos. I have no loyalty to any of you or who you represent. But that is exactly why I am a powerful ally. I hold favor with the crown. I am loyal to the Queen. I am a trusted emissary and one of the protectors of The Queen. I hold sway. Should you want things to go your way then you should do what you can to please me and my friends. To protect and honor the crown. To protect the child Queen and her mothers. For once, I hold the power. And I’m not going to beg you or any other god to take it from me. So, if you do not wish to afford us favors. To afford us gifts. Then we will simply sway the vote differently.”
Gash speaks with a confidence that he rarely gets to show off but in this instant he feels like he’s on top of the world. He believes the words he says and he says then plainly as possible.
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Gash- Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Dog raises his eyebrows at Gash in impressed surprise, but he’s not really all that surprised. He looks at the assorted angels and devils and points at the goblin offhandedly. In case they had missed it.
Then he wanders over to Axonia and asks if the angels and devils planned to hang out in the grove until the vote was resolved or if they planned to reconvene later to try for another vote and a decision.
His responses to Finnegan and the dragon were both muted, but also seemingly satisfied. Those were the tangible stakes. Now he had to puzzle out the celestial and political stakes.
Tristan watches the Elf’s banter with Kulloda with an amused expression, then introduces himself with a deep bow of his own, with no sign of mocking or sarcasm. “It is not as exciting as the play on the other side of the glen, but there is no shortage of entertainment if you know where to look. I didn’t realize the Fey had an interest in this maneuvering of the gods, but I should have expected nothing less with you serving as such gracious hosts for this gathering” Tristan spreads his arms out wide to indicate the glen and surrounding areas.
“How was your conversation with the dragon? Did you fill your cart with gold?” Tristan calls back to their first encounter, played out mostly telepathically. “Not that it matters much with gods on both sides offering divine boons for their favored candidates. If they are so all powerful, why do they need us?” He sees Lyr look toward the elemental god’s representatives. “I will save you the time, there are the usual hardliners, but there are also gods in both camps offering to switch their votes in exchange for the recovery of certain artifacts or other tasks. Play this right and it appears we will be showered with gifts no matter what side we chose"”
Tristan gives a small smile “What is the Fey Court's position? Or are you representing other interests in this matter, your own perhaps?”
Finnegan startles a bit when Dog approaches but composes himself quickly. Upon hearing his question, he scoffs. "I don't need a team of mercenaries to defend my dig sites any more, my dear boy," he says. "We are well beyond that. The gods themselves are in negotiations here."
He lets that hang in the open for a moment as he ponders, then says, "I suppose if you can affect the outcome, though...somehow...I would happily reward you with my mage tower and all it contains. Hundreds of years of arcane research, magical items, spells, historical artifacts, and more. I would have no need of it. So by all means, boy, if you have the ear of the gods themselves, you can have it all if you help out papa Finnegan."
The dragon has a similar answer, although delivered in a much less condescending way. "I have accumulated wealth over hundreds of years," she says, her voice purring. "But no heirs to speak of. It is an earthly boon, to be certain, but it is one I can guarantee."
Gash:
Typhorus scoffs. "So has the wizard and the dragon. Should Talos just grant boons to whomever seems able enough? I doubt you can even recite the Prayer of Shelter at Sea."
DM shield:
Religion (24): 10
Indeed, Gash has no notion of the prayer named. "No?" Typhorus says. "What loyalty have you shown to Talos, then, that he would trust your intentions."
“you’re right. I don’t know this prayer. And you’re right about something else. I have no loyalty to Talos. I have no loyalty to any of you or who you represent. But that is exactly why I am a powerful ally. I hold favor with the crown. I am loyal to the Queen. I am a trusted emissary and one of the protectors of The Queen. I hold sway. Should you want things to go your way then you should do what you can to please me and my friends. To protect and honor the crown. To protect the child Queen and her mothers. For once, I hold the power. And I’m not going to beg you or any other god to take it from me. So, if you do not wish to afford us favors. To afford us gifts. Then we will simply sway the vote differently.”
Gash speaks with a confidence that he rarely gets to show off but in this instant he feels like he’s on top of the world. He believes the words he says and he says then plainly as possible.
Typhorus snorts in response. He shows nothing of the temper displayed in his argument with Bael earlier this evening. Instead, he reaches out a flat hand and, in a rare display of actual magic during one of these gatherings, displays an illusion of dragonchess pieces, textured with rippling electricity.
"You fancy yourself a dragonchess player, then mortal?"the devil says. "Let's say Talos accepts your bargain. How much does your loyalty cost? Well, that depends on how much you can get from someone else across the glen, of course. Talos offers a boon and Bhaal offers two. So why not offer two to start with, you say? Well, because Bhaal will just offer three, so I might as well offer 8 on behalf of the god of storms. But, of course, Bhaal will raise it to 9. The problem with your loyalty-free mercenary position, little goblin, is you cannot offer your loyalty for a price, because that price can always be beat when the near infinite resources of the gods. Bhaal knows this, as does Waukeen, as do the rest."
The lightning illusion dissipates and Typhorus leans forward, though not threateningly. "You can't find an advantage here, Gash, emissary of Queen Gentoa. If you want to help, you need to find an angle you're comfortable with. Do you want a favor from the god of storms or the god of murder? How about the goddess of magic? The god of hunting? If you feel nothing for the domains of the gods, then consider what they ask you to do. Will you kill a unicorn for Malar or build a new temple for the goddess of pain? Or are you more comfortable invoking a novel spell for the goddess of magic?"
Typhorus gives a little shrug. "I don't really know what would move them, of course, but those favors must not all sit well with you, Gash, from what I have heard of you and yours. But maybe you really are willing to do anything. In which case, flip a coin, I suppose, and earn your boons from whomever will grant them, no matter what they are."
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Kulloda almost laughs again when he hears Gash's voice in his head. Water wizard and magic whisper wizard. Instead he just clears his throat with a low growl.
"If all want to sit keep talking," Kulloda begins. "Then talk, but Kulloda find very boring. Need to move and do. Why not talk while smack around elves and take fire? Or good fight with dwarves and take hammer?"
Kulloda looks around for any sign of the food tables reappearing.
"Maybe now go get drink, Gash," Kulloda says. "At least get drunk while endless talking happen."
Tristan arches his eyebrow at the half-orc’s suggestion to kill the gnome. “Now that is ambition. A bit unorthodox, but a solution nonetheless.” He looks around at the gathered angels and devils “However, Gash is correct. That is not a solution to be thrown about in such company, even he has his supporters and I fear rash words or actions could lead us down a path we dare not go. At least not yet.”
He looks back at the group “No, the question is how we build our influence without tipping our hand on who we are backing too soon. I am with our half-orc friend, let’s start collecting these divine relics.”
Tristan thinks back to the legends, stories, tales, and ballads he learned at the side of those who trained him to remember any relevant information on the Djinn, the magical flame, or the hammer of Jasperdown. History: 18.
He also pauses to consider if any of his network is located where they can provide assistance near Portia, Jasperdown, or the Eastern Tribes.
“Interesting.” — the Eladrin spoke with a light hmm. The information he’d received had offered some perspective regarding the conversations he’d seen, but not heard unfold between the Divine Ambassadors, and the clueless crownmembers.
”I must admit, it has been a dream of mine to lay claim to a Dragon’s hoard.” — Llyr spoke with a light chuckle. This particular dream of his had first taken root all the way back when, 3 seconds ago, the opportunity had been presented to him. Though it remained a dream all the same.
The Bladesinger’s eyes flashed with the glint of intelligence, as they met the people that had spoken, one at a time. The Fey Courts’ Envoy was weighing his options, and felt no need to hide it. “Well, then. It’d only be fair if I offered something up, myself.” — the Elf’s chin turned ever so faintly, towards the other remaining mortals — “If they come, and they might, I would suggest you try to include this little Kingdom’s well being into whatever it is you offer them.” The Eladrin shrugged. “I’d wager a pretty coin that they’re the type to look for it. And if campaigning is what you’re after, then it shouldn’t hurt to know your audience, mm?”
“I, on the other hand, am what you might call… more of a free agent.” — he spoke, making it clear whatever boons he’d be offered had to be his. Whatever deals the lot made with the others was their business.
Llyr’s hands clasped together in front of his chest. "So tell me, then. Whose minds do you suspect can be changed? Where do we start?” — the ‘we’ wavered between the royal kind, as befitting a being thoroughly in love with himself, and a not-so-subtle reminder (aimed at the Dragon, especially) that they would be finding themselves, proverbially, in bed with an Ambassador to the Fey… and all that that entailed.
Kulloda, Gash, Dog, and Tristan:
A couple of the devils appear to be snickering as Kulloda loudly philosophizes about how careless gods are about losing something over a lifespan he can scarcely imagine. One of them whispers, "...cute..." as Kulloda and the others begin to congregate together.
Typhorus responds to Gash's question with a half shrug. "Items of power, a blessing of strength or wit or agility, information about lost relics, secrets. Talos has many things he can bestow."
Meanwhile, Tristan considers his contacts. The crown has nobody in the north of Poria or the lands of the Eastern tribes. There is a part-time contact that travels through Jasperdown periodically, however.
Llyr:
"I am here as a mere show pony," Xa'lawea says. "I am also told that campaigning for godhood would be...crass. It is for the best. Politics is not truly my forte."
"Talk to Centulia and the devils of the elemental planes. They have a vested interest in a rapid resolution," Kystra says, pointing them out where they stand quite close to the emissaries of the crown.
Martin:
Viviora wanders temple row and then temple square with Martin asking the acolytes and clerics what they know about the Traveler or divine artifacts.
"You know more than they do, it seems," Viviora says, having discussed a little of Martin's adventures with him.
At the temple of Oghma, they stop for a long enough time that, once Martin is finished with his questions, Viviora is still praying. Eventually she finishes and approaches the acolyte, whispering into his ear. He nods and beckons her to follow him.
"I will be back in 20 minutes or so," she says. "Go talk to the clerics at the next temple and I will meet you at the temple of Tyr."
When they do meet at the temple of Tyr, Viviora looks radically different. She is dressed in chain mail adorned with the symbol of Oghma. A bow and a quarterstaff are strapped to her back and a fine looking rapier hangs in a sheath on her hip. She looks somewhat embarrassed to be in the new getup.
"I figured it was time to be serious about this paladin of Oghma thing if we are beginning a quest to find the Traveler," she says.
It turns out she was tapped as a paladin a month or so ago and has been in training at the temple ever since. This is why her time as a librarian student may be soon coming to an end. She has found a higher calling.
"So," she says, trying to change the subject. "You want to speak to the Regent tomorrow or should we follow one of your leads?"
"A drink would be welcome. And as for arenas, I haven't spent much time in them, but before I got pushed into this life, I was the strongman and bouncer in a traveling circus. Gash was there too. And Tock, our other friend..." Dog stops talking as Tristan arrives and updates them.
"It's a good question. I know Finnegan more than I know the dragon. Perhaps we find out what the dragon and the gnome wizard would offer should they ascend thanks to mortal help with changing votes. That's a pretty straightforward question. That might help the decision of which quests to undertake."
Dog returns to Finnegan and asks, now that the life debt question is out of the way, what his final offer would be for their help to sway votes in his favor.
Then he goes to the dragon and asks the same.
Kulloda claps his hands together at Tristan's agreement that they should head off to collect the relics and free the djinn. But his smile changes and Kulloda frowns and runs his tongue over his tusks when he hears the 'cute' comment from the devils. He then looks down at Gash.
"Beginning to think about what want for future now," he says, bringing up a question Gash had asked earlier. "Own kingdom, army and then go smack down some devils."
He watches Dog go off to talk to Finnegan and Xa'lawea.
"Not trust what either say," Kulloda says. "Make promise when mortal but once become god they not keep. Twist words with more talk. At least know what dragons are."
“I… got nothin’. I think the regent is the next step, unless you have a better idea… some sort of divine inspiration, perhaps. A Paladin? I guess Oghma is looking to get more involved? Or is it just you?”
Paladin - warforged - orange
Gash smiles. “Then let Talos bestow them. I am done taking the word on good faith. We should be given our boons, and such in advance. If the job is unsatisfactory, they can be taken from us. After all we are just mortals”
Gash wipes the smile from his face, “we have more than proven outselves to get a job done.”
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Dog:
Finnegan startles a bit when Dog approaches but composes himself quickly. Upon hearing his question, he scoffs. "I don't need a team of mercenaries to defend my dig sites any more, my dear boy," he says. "We are well beyond that. The gods themselves are in negotiations here."
He lets that hang in the open for a moment as he ponders, then says, "I suppose if you can affect the outcome, though...somehow...I would happily reward you with my mage tower and all it contains. Hundreds of years of arcane research, magical items, spells, historical artifacts, and more. I would have no need of it. So by all means, boy, if you have the ear of the gods themselves, you can have it all if you help out papa Finnegan."
The dragon has a similar answer, although delivered in a much less condescending way. "I have accumulated wealth over hundreds of years," she says, her voice purring. "But no heirs to speak of. It is an earthly boon, to be certain, but it is one I can guarantee."
Gash:
Typhorus scoffs. "So has the wizard and the dragon. Should Talos just grant boons to whomever seems able enough? I doubt you can even recite the Prayer of Shelter at Sea."
DM shield:
Religion (24): 24
Indeed, Gash has no notion of the prayer named. "No?" Typhorus says. "What loyalty have you shown to Talos, then, that he would trust your intentions."
Martin:
"It was Oghma who approached me," Viviora says, bashful. "I could not say no. I have worshipped Oghma all my life. To be called upon as a paladin of his in such a time as this is a huge honor. It...is not the way I saw my life going. Axonia assured me that I was the only choice, though. And I trust her with my life."
The pair are walking across Temple Square again, having visited every temple and sought advice on the pilgrims of the Traveler from every cleric to no avail. Martin is heading home at this late hour now, intent on visiting with the Regent in the morning.
“What’s wrong with being a little crass, every once in a while, mm?” — the Eladrin replied, his smile intensifying — “And show ponying seems a fair bit of what Godhood is, if I’m honest.” Llyr gazed at the procession one last time, hoping to show the Dragon what he saw: that the Angels and Devils present had done nothing but posturing, themselves.
The Envoy’s hands then immediately shut up in feigned surrender, before an Angel had the chance to rebuke him — glancing at Kystra in particular with a stare that seemed to imply something along the lines of ‘Alright, alright, I’ll be on my way’ — “You’ll develop a taste for it, soon enough, I’m told. And have eternity to polish your skills.” He told the dragon just before he went.
Unable to help himself, the Bladesinger then remarked one last time, through the Message cantrip to the surprisingly well behaved giant lizard, with a conspiratorial wink to boot — “Or find some lovely critters to do it for you.” — he transmitted, referring to the Angels, the Fiends, and even himself.
Tracing Kystra’s motions, Llyr quickly found Centulia, and moved over, but not directly to them — not just yet. Instead, he moved to join the only other mortal beings gathered here aside from him.
“Hello again.” — the Eladrin remarked to Tristan (the only one he’d interacted with so far), nodding at the rest as he approached them, his tone friendly, despite offering a frustratingly graceful mock of a bow — “How've you been finding the party?”
Kulloda watches the elf step lightly over to their group and takes in the mocking bow.
"If want insult then insult," Kulloda says, his perpetual frown on full display. "No fancy half insult. Just make look stupid."
He looks Llyr up and down, then just shrugs.
"No one care if you think you better. No one think they special 'cause you talk them. Bad as angels and devils. All show and talk."
Llyr’s typically languid eyes shot open at the Half Orc’s words. The Eladrin’s hair and skin flared up, and he radiated light — and heat — as magic power filled the atmosphere around him. “Ooooh. I like you.” — he remarked, his deep voice thrumming in a mixture of magic, aggression and delight, before, just as suddenly as everything had emerged, it vanished, as though it had never been there — “Wait, what?” — the Bladesinger’s head tilted to the right as his face took on a perplexed expression, all of the build up from before now nowhere in sight.
“Of course that’s what I think.“ — the Eladrin’s arms, bent at the elbow, spread open, palms up in a what do you mean kind of stance — “I have no wife and no children. As far as I’m concerned, I’m the most important person in the world. Obviously. Isn’t that the way it normally is?” — he glanced around, at Devils, Angels, Humans, Goblins, Half-Orcs and Goliaths, to find no real answer in any of their faces, and quirking a brow in further puzzlement as a result — “No? … Wow, you god-people are weird.”
With a shrug, the Envoy turned to look the Half-Orc in the eyes once again, not backing down, but nowhere near as confrontational. “And finally, my tusked friend. If I wanted to insult you, I promise you. You’d know. I’ve no need for half measures when I can just as easily shit on your rug.”
“Now. If you’re done judging me for my manners, I’d very much like to know what these winged folk want me to do. Because, if it’s all the same to you, I’d really like to wrap this up so I can get back to my drinking, like a normal Elf.” — in the face of the soon-to-be Ambassadors of Limbo, and not too far off from those of the Heavens, and those of the Hells, Llyr shamelessly reached into his Bag of Holding and pulled an almost empty bottle of wine, half-way out, before placing it back in. “What do you say?”
Kulloda begins laughing as Llyr goes on.
"Okay think you best," Kulloda says, "just know, no one cares. Kulloda has many scars to prove that."
He then looks at the collection of angels and devils and waves a dismissive hand at them.
"They just all talk and talk. No wonder nothing happen," he says with a curled lip. "We go find lost relics and other trinkets and gods get happy and do what we say. Decide along the way if support dragon or gnome."
Then he frowns again.
"Now real insult," he says seeing the bottle of wine. "Show you have wine but not share."
Feeling a migraine rising and preparing to do something about it, Llyr found himself stopping before he’d ever even done anything when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught the lineup of massive Angelic and Fiendish forms silently staring at them — a stark reminder of the circumstances he was in. Sighing to quell the vein beginning to bulge in his neck, the Eladrin reached into his bag, plucked the bottle of wine once again, and chucked it through the air, deftly aimed at the Half-Orc.
When the wine-filled vessel reached about 3 or so feet from its target, the Bladesinger’s index built up pressure against his thumb and then flicked outwards, and the bottle froze in place, mid-arc. “If I give you this.” — Llyr spoke, finger still loosely pointing at the suspended glassware feet away, his tone showing he was fully prepared to take it back, depending on the answer — “Will you let us talkers do our talking?”
“you’re right. I don’t know this prayer. And you’re right about something else. I have no loyalty to Talos. I have no loyalty to any of you or who you represent. But that is exactly why I am a powerful ally. I hold favor with the crown. I am loyal to the Queen. I am a trusted emissary and one of the protectors of The Queen. I hold sway. Should you want things to go your way then you should do what you can to please me and my friends. To protect and honor the crown. To protect the child Queen and her mothers. For once, I hold the power. And I’m not going to beg you or any other god to take it from me. So, if you do not wish to afford us favors. To afford us gifts. Then we will simply sway the vote differently.”
Gash speaks with a confidence that he rarely gets to show off but in this instant he feels like he’s on top of the world. He believes the words he says and he says then plainly as possible.
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
Dog raises his eyebrows at Gash in impressed surprise, but he’s not really all that surprised. He looks at the assorted angels and devils and points at the goblin offhandedly. In case they had missed it.
Then he wanders over to Axonia and asks if the angels and devils planned to hang out in the grove until the vote was resolved or if they planned to reconvene later to try for another vote and a decision.
His responses to Finnegan and the dragon were both muted, but also seemingly satisfied. Those were the tangible stakes. Now he had to puzzle out the celestial and political stakes.
Kulloda laughs again when the bottle stops in mid-air. He moves forward and looks at the wine bottle from two angles and laughs again.
”Not much wine left. Don’t talk too long.” Kulloda says through his laughter.
He then nods over at Gash.
“Little big man get hang of it now.”
Tristan watches the Elf’s banter with Kulloda with an amused expression, then introduces himself with a deep bow of his own, with no sign of mocking or sarcasm. “It is not as exciting as the play on the other side of the glen, but there is no shortage of entertainment if you know where to look. I didn’t realize the Fey had an interest in this maneuvering of the gods, but I should have expected nothing less with you serving as such gracious hosts for this gathering” Tristan spreads his arms out wide to indicate the glen and surrounding areas.
“How was your conversation with the dragon? Did you fill your cart with gold?” Tristan calls back to their first encounter, played out mostly telepathically. “Not that it matters much with gods on both sides offering divine boons for their favored candidates. If they are so all powerful, why do they need us?” He sees Lyr look toward the elemental god’s representatives. “I will save you the time, there are the usual hardliners, but there are also gods in both camps offering to switch their votes in exchange for the recovery of certain artifacts or other tasks. Play this right and it appears we will be showered with gifts no matter what side we chose"”
Tristan gives a small smile “What is the Fey Court's position? Or are you representing other interests in this matter, your own perhaps?”
Typhorus snorts in response. He shows nothing of the temper displayed in his argument with Bael earlier this evening. Instead, he reaches out a flat hand and, in a rare display of actual magic during one of these gatherings, displays an illusion of dragonchess pieces, textured with rippling electricity.
"You fancy yourself a dragonchess player, then mortal?" the devil says. "Let's say Talos accepts your bargain. How much does your loyalty cost? Well, that depends on how much you can get from someone else across the glen, of course. Talos offers a boon and Bhaal offers two. So why not offer two to start with, you say? Well, because Bhaal will just offer three, so I might as well offer 8 on behalf of the god of storms. But, of course, Bhaal will raise it to 9. The problem with your loyalty-free mercenary position, little goblin, is you cannot offer your loyalty for a price, because that price can always be beat when the near infinite resources of the gods. Bhaal knows this, as does Waukeen, as do the rest."
The lightning illusion dissipates and Typhorus leans forward, though not threateningly. "You can't find an advantage here, Gash, emissary of Queen Gentoa. If you want to help, you need to find an angle you're comfortable with. Do you want a favor from the god of storms or the god of murder? How about the goddess of magic? The god of hunting? If you feel nothing for the domains of the gods, then consider what they ask you to do. Will you kill a unicorn for Malar or build a new temple for the goddess of pain? Or are you more comfortable invoking a novel spell for the goddess of magic?"
Typhorus gives a little shrug. "I don't really know what would move them, of course, but those favors must not all sit well with you, Gash, from what I have heard of you and yours. But maybe you really are willing to do anything. In which case, flip a coin, I suppose, and earn your boons from whomever will grant them, no matter what they are."